Page 66 of Girl, Remembered

‘Yeah. One second. Will gave me a key. He asked me to keep an eye on the place because he was worried about phroggers or something or other. I don’t know what they are but I don’t…’

She trailed off, still talking as she disappeared into her own house. She returned a moment later with a set of keys. Ella reached out to take them, but the woman ignored the hint. She walked across the path between the two houses and up to Edis’s front door. Keys rattled in the lock, and then the front door opened.

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

‘Happy to help.’ She went to step inside but Ella stopped her.

‘Ma’am, you need to stay out here. Get back into your house.’

‘Why can’t I come in?’

‘Because I don’t know what I’m going to find in there, okay?’

‘Suit yourself. I’ll come lock up once you’re gone. And don’t go in the kitchen, because if the walls fall on you you’ll be eating through a straw for twenty years.’

It was an excessive, unnecessary description, but Ella appreciated the warning all the same. ‘Thank you.’

The door swung open onto a hallway that smelled of fresh paint and lemon polish. Parquet flooring, dust-free. A console table held nothing but a bowl of keys that weren’t car keys. Spares, maybe.

‘Will?’

Nothing came back.

She moved fast, room to room with her gun glued to her hand.

The living room first. Ella turned the lights on and found it empty, cushions plumped into neat corners, curtains open onto a dark window. Beyond it, the living room lights illuminated the small garden and the pond in the distance. There were two sunloungers out there and more noticeably, not a serial killing fugitive.

The study next. One barren desk, one wall-to-wall bookshelf boasting nothing but a few standard ornaments. Nowhere for someone to hide.

Ella braved the kitchen, despite it apparently not being structurally sound. She didn’t have time for structurally sound. Cracks split up one wall in a jagged line. A few tiles had lifted near the skirting board, curled up like old paper. Otherwise nothing.

Upstairs next.

First bedroom, empty. Bare mattress, no sheets, wardrobe doors hanging open on nothing but wire coat hangers. Nobody had lived here in months and the place said so without her needing reminding.

Second bedroom. Same story. A single chair by the window, angled towards the glass like someone used to sit there and look out, once, a long time ago.

Bathroom. Clean, unremarkable.

She checked under both beds anyway. Checked the airing cupboard on the landing, the loft hatch above it, sealed shut and coated in a fine layer of dust that hadn’t been disturbed.

Ella stood on the landing and lowered her gun.

Nothing. The whole house, top to bottom, and nothing.

Her phone rang, shattering the silence, and Ella nearly put a bullet through the airing cupboard.

She looked at the screen. Ripley.

‘Mia. Tell me you found him.’

‘I haven’t found a damn thing. I’m in his house at Front Royal and it’s deserted. No signs of anyone having been here in ages either.’

‘Have you checked the dust?’

‘Of course I’ve checked the dust. It’s Dust City over here. Edis hasn’t been here, Doyle hasn’t been here. Nobody’s been here since my son.’

‘Tried the attic? The basement?’